Two, Fourteen, Eighteen, Thirteen, Six
by Poli Almasy
Summary: Squall and Seifer meet in the Garden for the first time after leaving the orphanage. Alternative to traditional yaoi


Two - Fourteen - Eighteen - Thirteen - Six  
  
Poli Almasy (white_mage_eiko@yahoo.com)  
http://envy.nu/whitemage/poetry  
  
Seifer confronts Squall when they find each other  
again at the Garden. An alternate to more traditional  
yaoi. Excuse out of characterness, its just  
a harmless story. Also I do not endorse self-mutilation  
nor have I ever practiced self-mutilation. I'm using  
it as a device to tell a story.  
  
  
-----------------------------------------------------  
  
  
"Heh heh, I don't need parents. I've got   
eveything I'll ever need right here." Fourteen  
year old Seifer Almasy stood in the corner of  
the training facility of the Garden. It had only  
been two weeks since his arival but he already felt  
at home. Standing in a darkened corner where he was  
sure no one could see him he ran his left wrist along  
the sharp edge of his new gunblade.  
  
Curiously he watched his boold drip to the   
floor and form a small pool. Ever since he had the  
ablity to use magic he had been cutting himself. It  
made him feel weak and out of control. Each time as  
his magic ablities grew he allowed himself to cut   
deeper. Realizing that it was getting late he cured  
himslef, not worrying about the puddle of blood, and  
returned to his room.  
  
Seifer only had eighteen minutes to get back  
to his room before curfew. He wasn't much for rules,  
but if he had to endure them to become a SeeD he was  
more then willing. There was something about his   
insturctor that puzzled him. She was very young, his  
age or a few months older, and she seemed expecally  
harsh on him.  
  
His mind drifted back to his self-mutalation.  
It surprized him that even though he wa happier then  
he ever was before and yet he was getting worse. He  
decided he only did it to forget what he had been  
though. And ever since he had started his memory  
was getting worse, he was forgetting the past.  
  
"Will you watch we're you're going!" a somewhat  
high pitched boy yelped.  
  
Seifer was so lost in his own thoughts he hadn't  
even seen the young brown haired boy. He was a good few  
inches shorter then Seifer and carried a gunblade as well.  
Long chestnut brown hair framed his grey eyes. Something  
in Seifer's unclear mind clicked and he smiled.  
  
"Well, are you going to say sorry and help me  
up, or just stand there?" it was clear the boy was mad.  
Also, that he wasn't mad because of what Seifer did.  
Like it was predispositioned that they hate each other.  
  
"Heh, don't expect me to help you." Violently  
Seifer brought the edge of his gunblade to the boy's  
neck as a sign of domanace. At the angle he was standing  
Seifer could see the refection of the boy's eyes in the  
cold metal. A few spots of Seifer's own blood was dried  
on the edge. The fact the boy's expression stayed aloof  
even with the blade close to him amused Seifer.  
  
"Do you have a name, or what?" Seifer angeled  
the blade in an attempt to scare him but his expression  
remained the same. Rage was comming over Seifer and he  
had no other way to unleash it.  
  
"That blood is yours, isn't it?" his cool grey  
eyes were now looking directly at Seifer, as if the   
gunblade wasn't there at all.  
  
The complexity of this boy was no longer  
interesting to Seifer. He lay there, on his back with  
a gunblade to his neck, and he was questioning his attacker.  
He was breathing heavily but showed no other signs of fear.  
Seifer wanted to slit his windpipe so he wouldn't even have   
to think about him again. Yet, that would be like throwing  
his life away again.  
  
"I cut myself too." the boy began, "It takes away  
other pain, doesn't it?" his voice was distant. As if   
someone else was talking and not this small, insignifigant  
boy. Seifer pulled away the gunblade and let the boy sit up.  
He wasn't sure why, but hearing his distant voice calmed his  
hate. "I'm Squall....I just joined the Garden." he whispered.  
  
Ignoring the time Seifer sat against the wall and was  
shocked when Squall moved and sat next to him. The innate hatred  
of the boy was still there, but it was masked by his calm, aloof  
nature, which was comforting to Seifer.  
  
"How old are you?" Seifer made a point to make his  
voice as threating as possible.  
  
"Thirteen, I'm thirteen." his voice staggered. Fear  
was in his voice for the first time. He would take on  
Seifer's blade but he was afraid of sitting next to him.  
"Y-you don't scare me. You know that? I'm not afriad, just  
cold."  
  
"Then you should go back to your room." Seifer tried  
to keep his voice stable and held back laughter. He couldn't  
remeber ever laughing. He had felt so many emotions in the last  
few minutes. He had to get rid of these fellings, this stress  
Once again Seifer raised his gunblade and brought the edge to his   
wrist.  
  
"Don't." Squall's words were crisp even though he was  
tired and cold. "The gunblade is too hard to cut with..it's too  
big."  
  
"You have a better idea?" Once again he lowered his wrist to  
the blade. Squall passed him a small pocket knife. Blood stains were  
along the outside of the casing.  
  
"Um, I don't know how to ask this, but. Can I cut you?" again  
Squall quivered. Seifer was a bit shocked by the request. He wasn't  
sure what the younger boy ment by it. Even more shocking was that  
Seifer considered it. He wanted to know how it felt to be cut by  
someone else. Slowly he nodded and returned teh knife to its owner.  
  
With amazing speed Squall removed his gloves that were  
too large for him and exposed his delicate hands.  
  
"Under one condition, I want to cut you." Coldness returned  
to Seifer's words. Shyly Squall nodded and resumed his task. He drew  
out the blade and brought it to an inch above the older boy's flesh.  
Then with a swift movment he cut the skin. He only went half as deep  
as Seifer had eariler but it felt so different. Like a whole new  
release. He dare not show he was in pain. As far as he was concerned  
he was still dominate over Squall. Without a word he pasted the knife to  
Seifer.  
  
He took the boy's thin arm in his hand and steadied it. A  
sudden fear of cutting too deep came over him. But, he decided that  
even if he went too far, the spell would still mask the incision.  
Without thinking he cut into the boy's soft flesh and felt his blood  
run over his fingers. Squall allowed himself to let out a small cry  
of pain. Seifer could detect tears in his stormy eyes. Yet, he was   
sure he didn't cut too far.  
  
"How many times have you done this?" Seifer questioned.  
  
"Only six times, counting this time." he was in pain  
but tried to hide it. He didn't want Seifer to think of him  
as week.  
  
"You're weak. But so was I when I started." he turned around  
and left the training center. He ignored his scars and let them  
bleed on the floor as he walked to his room. He didn't care anymore  
what people thought of him. 


End file.
